“Doesn’t change the fact that now I wish you had been telling the truth about being locked away inside playing video games.”
Gavin had no response for that as she walked away.
Dirt therapy worked better than scream therapy. Good thing because she wanted to scream her fool head off at Gavin.
The man drove her insane. Always so even-keeled. Matter of fact. Not to mention he was thoughtful, surprisingly funny and so unconsciously sweet that she just wanted to hug him.
And that annoyed the piss out of her.
The earth made a loud ching as the shovel blade connected with the crust. She put muscle into it, turning the soil over until dark chunks appeared. Rielle dropped to her knees and brushed the dirt from the clumps of blue fingerling potatoes. These were in high demand in recent years, so she’d filled one entire bed with just this variety. Restaurants in Casper, Cheyenne and Jackson Hole had already placed orders. The entire crop was sold before she’d harvested. That was a good feeling.
She stood and wiped her brow with the back of her glove. It was unseasonably warm for September—not that she was complaining. The longer the sun kept shining, the better the chances were the last crop of heirloom tomatoes could ripen on the vine.
This year she might actually get to harvest everything before the first frost. Over the past three years she’d tripled the size of her gardens. Specializing in organic vegetables had tripled her income. But she was too cheap to hire extra help, so she’d rigged up a generator and the light allowed her to harvest at night.
Gavin constantly commented about her working too hard, but the irony was he ran two businesses and she knew he worked late into the night. He wasn’t exactly a stuffed shirt either; he acted more relaxed now than he had when she first met him. But he was very matter of fact. Very methodical.
Isn’t that what you like about him? He doesn’t pu**yfoot around an issue? He comes right out and tells you what he thinks and then gives you a chance to agree or disagree?
That was a refreshing trait. Most men tried to charm or cajole her, acting offended when their bravado didn’t have the desired effect, either in business or personally. Which is probably why she didn’t date. Too much bullshit.
How had the subject of dating and Gavin come up together?
Because face it, you’re attracted to him.
Yes, they flirted constantly. But it didn’t mean anything because they were… What exactly were they?
Roommates. Friends. Tied together by a business deal that each of them regretted on some level. The potential for more was there. The question was: Would either of them act on it? Or would they just keep it comfortable and remain at the friendly, teasing stage?
Pushing those thoughts aside, she got back to work.
Sometime later, she heard, “Hey, Rielle.”
She glanced up to see Chet and Remy West hanging over the fence on the far side of the tomato garden.
“What can I do for the West boys today?”
“Gavin suggested we come talk to you,” Chet said.
She dropped her gloves by the tomato plant so she’d remember where to pick up. “There are benches down here.” She could use a break. Standing slowly, she set her hands on her lower back, then arched back to ease the strain.
Since her hands were full with two baskets of tomatoes, Remy opened the gate for her. He wasn’t a tall man, but his bulked-up body made him seem bigger. With his curly dark brown hair, warm hazel-colored eyes and sweet smile, Rielle wondered why she’d always turned him down whenever he’d asked her out over the years.
“Plants look great, Ree.”
“No blight this year, thank heaven.”
Chet peered in the basket of tomatoes. “Ma wants to know if you’ll be at the farmer’s market or if you’ll be selling directly from here.”
“Some of both. Next Saturday I’ll be at Spearfish Park. She can always call me or stop by. I’m here most days.” Rielle sat on the slate bench. “Why does Gavin think I need to talk to you guys? The house and the front section of property are his now and he can do whatever he wants with it.” Including building a big damn garage. Would he fill it with boy’s toys? A sports car? She tried to picture it, but Gavin didn’t seem the flashy type.
Chet stared off into the distance. His height topped his brother’s by an inch or two, but his physique was identical to Remy’s—brawny and muscle bound. His gaze met hers. His eyes were deep brown, almost black. His blond hair also held a hint of curl. If their eye color and hair color weren’t complete opposites, Rielle would swear the men were twins. “Everything is finalized on the addition and we’ll start next week since we had a three-week hole in our schedule.”
“Seems…coincidental the opening just happens to be the same time Gavin needs a project finished.”
Remy shrugged. “Sometimes things just work out like they’re supposed to. But that’s not why we’re here.”
Rielle twisted the top off the gallon jug of water and took a long drink before she answered. “What’s up?”
“After we got the phone call from Gavin, we revisited the building plans for your place since we hadn’t looked at them in a while.”
“And?”
“And the design is solid. We’re able to design all the eco features you’ve asked for. However…”
Chet and Remy exchanged a look, then Chet said, “It’ll be very labor intensive, which we all knew going into this project. So we updated materials costs and reworked our original estimate…”
She held her breath because this wouldn’t be good news.
“The cost has gone up twenty percent.”
“Shit.”
“We refigured it a couple different ways,” Remy said, almost apologetically, “but the price didn’t change.”
Due to her miserly ways, she could afford to pay additional costs, but she was kicking herself for putting this off. “Thank you guys. The cost of everything has gone up.” She offered a wan smile. “Not happy, but not surprised. So that’s the worst of it?”
Chet leaned forward. “Nope. With the building site location, and the time of year, and what’s already on our plate, there’s no way we can get to the project until next spring.”
“And that doesn’t have anything to do with us takin’ on Gavin’s garage,” Remy added. “Colby and Channing hafta wait for spring for the addition on their house too.”
“I should’ve set a firm date for the start date.”